


Little Red Mark

by Lyra_Kero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Meetings, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm so tired, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Old Yeller reference, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, idk what else to tag here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyra_Kero/pseuds/Lyra_Kero
Summary: Everyone has a small mark on their bodies that will turn red when you meet your soulmate. Lance’s mark was on his wrist and he loved checking it all the time, not that he was like one of those crazy people who was constantly looking at his wrist. Just a glance every hour or so, or if he ran into someone new he (and whoever he’d met) would glance down to it.At 20 years old his mark had yet to turn red.-----Lance breaks his wrist. The same wrist that has his Soulmark on it. What are the chances that the one guy he runs into is his soulmate?AKA, another Soulmate AU that no one asked for





	Little Red Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Me, at midnight: I need to sleep  
> Me, at 2am and not being able to sleep: fuck it, let's write a soulmate oneshot
> 
>  
> 
> I remember a long while back I saw a Soulmate Prompt that was kind of like this, but I don't remember the specifics of it, so I kind of just... cobbled together what I could remember of it. I could have just gone looking for/used one of the more popular Soulmate prompts but..... I didn't.
> 
>  
> 
> I should get back to writing one of the... other... many.... many... many fic snippets I have laying around.  
> Yep.
> 
>  
> 
> Not really beta'd outside of reading through it a couple times to try and catch any misused words or spelling errors.
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: now that I've gotten more than 2 hours of sleep I've fixed the wrong words and layout! :'D

For the record, this wasn’t Lance’s fault.

 

Everyone has a small mark on their bodies that will turn red when you meet your soulmate. Lance’s mark was on his wrist and he loved checking it all the time, not that he was like one of those crazy people who was constantly looking at his wrist. Just a glance every hour or so, or if he ran into someone new he (and whoever he’d met) would glance down to it.

 

At 20 years old his mark had yet to turn red, and that was fine. Sure, he was anxious, but he knew that he’d meet his soulmate one day and he’d know it was them by that little red mark.  
That is, until he broke his wrist while skating with his friends. The same wrist that had his soulmark.

 

What. The. Fuck.

 

 

Lance had refused to leave home after the doctor’s visit, paranoid about the mark that was now hidden behind his cast. He’d have his friends over and everyone would laugh and joke around, but they never teased him about his cast (okay, maybe Pidge had taken a black marker and drawn a line on his cast and claiming “There! Now you’ll be able to look at it!” before running out of the room to dodge a poorly thrown pillow).

 

Lance was fine with this, and was glad it wasn’t a serious break. Just under nine weeks of mostly staying inside (the few times he went out and did run into someone new, it was easy enough to rule them out when they politely showed that they weren’t the one. He could have done without some of the pitying looks mind) and he was back at the hospital with his older sister, Lupe. He kept his eyes downcast towards his phone as he smiled, texting with his friends.

 

**ShinyPidgey** : the day has come!  
**ShinyPidgey** : Lance will finally stop complaining about his cast!

**HunkyMunky** : He wasn’t that bad.

**ShinyPidgey** : i have proof otherwise.

**BestBoy** : u don’t know hell until u wake up at 3am with ur arm itchng  
**BestBoy** : but u cant scratch it  
**BestBoy** : bcz its wrapped in satans cloth

 

He gave a gentle grunt when he felt someone bump into him, raising his head to start to glare before his attacker spoke. “Sorry.” the voice came out breathlessly, hurried but it also sounded sincere enough that Lance let his head fall back to his phone. He briefly realized what happened and snapped his head up and looked around.  
“Hey,”  
“Lance, come on!” Lupe said, “I need to pick up Lana from daycare after this.”

Before his head turned back to follow his sister he saw a glimpse of black hair retreating around a corner towards the elevators.

 

_Okay. What’s one person?_ He thought. _What are the chances?_

 

 

High.  
Very fucking high.

 

When the doctor had removed the cast and Lance turned his wrist for him to examine it better he felt like lead had been poured straight into his stomach. Like he’d been on top of a roller coaster that suddenly plummeted.  
The small mark that Lance loved to check, had been adamant to check with any strangers he saw just to make sure, was a beautiful crimson.  
And all Lance had to go on was black hair.

 

“Fuck.”

 

 

 

No. This was not fine. Regardless of what his sister said, told him that her and her husband had missed their first meeting as well and it turned out fine, it wasn’t for him. For one, Lupe had met Terry at school. They’d met when Terry had moved to town and while they were passing in the hallway they’d ran into each other and dropped their things. They got a good look at each other and talked and exchanged names and said “hey I need to head over to my Social class” and “yeah, my Algebra 3 is on the first floor see you around” before they left. They were able to run into each other again the next day full of hugs and excited screeching from both of them.

 

Lance had black hair and a voice. That was it. No name. No face. No next class. Just that his soulmate was male (he thinks, he’s not going to rule out a masculine sounding girl, but his gut instinct is usually right. 70% of the time. Pidge didn’t count, she was in that 30% failure rate) and he had black hair that was a little long. A mullet, if you will. Maybe a mullet.  
He’ll call it a mullet until he’s proven wrong.

“I thought things would be better when your cast was off.” Pidge said as she, Hunk and Lance were walking around town, the Cuban boy scanning the crowds as they passed, gently rubbing his thumb against the mark on his wrist.  
“Pidge, this is serious.” Lance said, not tearing his gaze away from one person whose black hair was pulled back into a stubby ponytail, but then she turned around and waved to a friend, her voice pitched higher as she greeted them. Nope. “I met my soulmate! And I didn’t even get a look at his face!”

“Lance,” Hunk said and oh no. He was using that voice. That _I understand this is important to you but I’m about to lay down a truth you don’t want to hear_ voice. Lance hated that voice. “The chances of us finding him are crazy high. Do you know how many people live in this town? Nearly Fifty-thousand people. And that’s not even counting that this guy might have just been passing through and had to go to the hospital for something.”

 

Lance groaned, raising his hands to bury his face. “I should have looked at him.” he grumbled. “I should have looked up at him, but no. Noooo I was talking to you guys, then Lupe told me to hurry up.”  
“You got his hair color.” Pidge said, a small hand coming to gently pat his elbow. “That’s something at least.” She thought for a moment before her eyes widened. “Lance! Have you checked Missed Connections?”

“Huh?” Lance lowered his hands and looked towards her.

“Missed Connections! It’s a site for this kind of thing! People who didn’t get a look at or a name when they met their soulmates. Just go to the site and type out what happened and usually your soulmate can find you that way.”  
“Usually?” the taller boy asked, narrowing his eyes, and Pidge glanced away, fidgeting slightly.  
“Well, it’s not the best. A lot of people are mean and trick people into having false hope, which is why most people will only put like a bare minimum of what happened then ask their soulmate to provide another half or like a location or what was said or something like that to prove it’s them. Other times there’s the chance that their soulmate just doesn’t see the post.” She cleared her throat before looking back up to Lance, “But at this point it’s your best shot. Either that or we start making flyers asking for everyone with a black mullet to report to your house.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Mama will be happy about that one…” Then again, how many people in town had a mullet, black or otherwise?

 

 

When he got home, Lance had opened his laptop, checking the url that Pidge had given him, and brought up the site. He wanted to get a post made right then and there, but Hunk had advised to check the posts already made first, just in case his soulmate had made one already.  
Immediately, Lance was sending out a furious text to the smallest of their group.

**to Pidge** :  
you didnt tell me that this site was full of pervs!!!!!!

 

**Pidge** :  
o right  
oops?  
just ignore those and find your guy!!!  
[followurdreams.jpg]

 

Lance groaned, covering his face again. Why? The one time he didn’t look. The one time he didn’t stop the person to ask them if their mark had changed colors was the one time that it mattered. And now he had to dig through a bunch of gross, cringy looking personal ads in hopes of finding the one person he desperately was looking for.

He could do this. He just had to shorten the search to his area and for people looking for a guy. After that he’d just have to scan the posts for one that looked right.  
Like that one!

Hot Guy @ Hospital w4m

Maybe it had been a girl? But clicking it only brought disappointment when, not only did the poster say that she had blonde hair, but the guy was a hospital worker. And she was less looking for her soulmate and more of another “fun hospital bj”.  
Nope.

 

He continued his search, his legs jittering as he continued to click on each link in hopes it was the one. And each disappointment left him drained.  
By the time he heard his mother calling him for dinner, he was a few pages in and all hope was nearly lost. He clicked on the next page link, slowly scrolling through the pages and began to stand up when he saw there, at the bottom of the page.

 

Cute Tan Boy at the Hospital m4m

 

He was tan. He was cute. He was a boy!  
Lance clicked the link, his heart pounding as he read through the post.

_You were looking at your phone and I ran into you in the hallway. I said sorry but your mom (aunt??) told you to hurry up so we didn’t get to say much._ Lance was going to rub this into Lupe’s face, his soulmate thought she was his mom! _You were tall and tan. Please respond back with the name of the hospital and what floor we were on. Also with what was on your right hand?_

 

Lance laughed. He couldn’t help it. He was so happy he gave out a startled laugh and never in his life did he click a link faster to respond, before his brain froze.

He could give the name of the hospital, Alfor King Memorial. He could say what was on his right hand, that was his cast that was decorated with dozens of signatures and drawings from his nieces and nephews and Pidge. But the floor.

“Lupe!” Lance bolted out the door of his room, “Lupe! What floor were we on?” He was yelling as he ran down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the midway point and jumped. His mother had turned to scold him, but Lupe was there first, her gaze hard.  
“Lance.” she hissed, “I love you. I love you with all of my heart and soul. But Lana wasn’t feeling well and is asleep and if you wake up my beautiful little girl I will take you out back and deal with you like Ol’ Yeller.”

“Who’s Ol’ Yeller?” Benji, Lance’s youngest brother, spoke up as he climbed into his chair at the table.  
“Never mind.” Lance’s mother said, pointing to her other two children. “You two. Sit.”

“Mama!” Lance said, “I think I found my soulmate! But I can’t remember what floor we were on at the hospital when I got my cast removed and that’s what he’s asking for to prove it was me and if I can’t do that then he’ll probably think I’m some creeper and I’ll be alone for the rest of my life!” he sucked in a breath, panting slightly.

“Sit down,” his mother said, though smiled over to Lance. “You can ask Lupe calmly over dinner, then go back to talking to your soulmate.”

“Why does he want to know what floor you were on?” Lupe asked, raising an eyebrow and Lance’s face flushed red.  
“Uh,” he glanced off to the side, shuffling his feet. Might as well bite the bullet. “Okay, so me and Hunk and Pidge were out in town and I was hoping I could find him out and about? But then Hunk brought up that it was a dumb plan because I don’t even know what he looks like outside of having black hair and a mullet. Then Pidge said there was a site that could help you find your soulmate so I kind of spent the last hour looking through pages trying to see if he’d made a post and he did, but to prove it’s me he’s asking that I give him the name of the hospital, the floor we were on and what was on my right hand. And I just need to remember what floor we were on when I got my cast taken off! It was literally like five minutes before I got it removed! Four of those minutes were waiting for the doctor to show up.” He took another breath. “Please! I’ll come right back down for dinner as soon as I get the floor and I’ll even do the dishes tonight!” It had been his turn last night to do the dishes, and whenever Lupe came over for dinner she always did them. Lance would easily take this as long as he got to meet his soulmate.

 

Lupe crossed her arms, though her head tipped back as it always did when she was in thought. A good sign. Lance hadn’t been told outright she didn’t remember, and his mama wasn’t nudging him over to the table. Regardless, he was beginning to bounce on his feet anxiously, his eyes wide as he looked up to his sister, sucking in a breath when she finally spoke.  
“I think,” she said slowly, “it was the… third floor? We had to go up the elevator. It wasn’t that far up.” she gave out a startled sound when he threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her and kissed her cheek.  
“Thank you! You’re the best big sister!” Lance cried, before pulling back and ran back up the stairs.

“I’m going to tell the others that!” Lupe called back, before she walked into the kitchen to help their mother set out food.  
“I want you back down here in five minutes, Lance!” his mother also called out, before Lance made it back into his room and quickly set to work on writing out a response.

 

He’d spent that entire five minutes trying to make it look right. He didn’t want it to sound too formal, or too casual (this was his soulmate, after all). He wasn’t sure how to word some things, going so far as to completely erase the message and retype it three times.  
When he heard his mother calling up to him that his time was up and he needed to be back downstairs and that his plate was going to get cold, Lance whined out and, in his panic, wrote out a message and hit send, not even wanting to look at it anymore and left his room.

 

_Hi! It’s me. Your blue-eyed cute tan boy soulmate that you met at Alfor King Memorial Hospital!!!! ;) We were on the third floor and I had a cast on my right hand and I’m really glad I found this message! We should meet up soon so I can see what you look like outside of having a mullet! Here’s my number: 561-xxx-xxxx_

 

 

By the time he’d finished doing the dishes, Lance had gone up to his room and grabbed his phone, falling onto his bed and stared at it. A text from Hunk, a few pings in the groupchat and…

A text from an unknown number. He instantly sat up, opening the text.

 

**Unknown Number** :  
1, thank you for not being another dick pic.  
2, its not a mullet  
3, im glad u answered finally i was abt to give up

 

Lance may or may not have squealed as he quickly went to save the number under Soulmate before sending a text back.

**to Soulmate** :  
srry i didnt reply sooner dinner n dishes  
and im glad you didnt give up

 

**Soulmate** :  
where do you want to meet up? Theres a park close to me

 

**to Soulmate** :  
sounds good!! Send me directions? And tmrw @ noon?

 

**Soulmate** :  
its a date :)

 

Lance definitely squealed.

 

 

The following day, Lance was at the park, staring down at his phone to check the time. It was a little past noon, but he was rereading through his and his soulmate’s (Keith. His name was Keith) texts from last night. Most of it had been just playing Twenty Questions as a way to get to know each other.  
Keith liked hippos and the color blue. He was in the process of restoring an old motorcycle and had an orange and white cat he named Marmalade (which Lance had demanded pictures of, and Keith sent several). He liked spicy food and was lactose intolerant.

In return, Lance had told him that his favorite animal was a shark and he preferred the color red. He told him that he’d broken his wrist skating and that he’d always wanted a pet cat, but his family had a cute blue heeler mix named Indie that was hyper and always getting into the trash.

 

He looked up from his phone after receiving a text from Keith, saying the other boy was by the small duck pond in the center of the park and picked up his pace to get there.  
And as soon as he saw the pond in sight, he also saw a boy standing there. A boy he recognized from the selfie that had been sent of a maybe part-Asian, pale boy with black hair and dark eyes, giving the camera an awkward peace sign and a half-grin. “Keith?” The boy turned around.

 

There he was. The same boy. Same black mullet, same dark eyes. As Lance got closer, he could make out the few blemishes on his face scattered across one of his cheeks and one on his chin. He could see his lips, chewed and red and slightly chapped as a result. Keith was shorter than him, not much. Just a few inches, but it was enough that Keith would probably have to lift up onto his toes a bit to kiss….

“Hi.” Keith’s voice broke Lance’s train of thought, causing the Cuban boy to blush deeply. That same grin from the picture was on his face and maybe it was just the way the sun was hitting them, but Lance could swear his eyes were purple. Purple. That’s not a natural eye color, right? Maybe they’re contacts. Maybe it was a genetic mutation? Was there something like that that could make eyes purple?  
Whatever. Keith was beautiful.

 

When Keith began to blush deeply, his eyes widening before he looked away, his hands beginning to pick at and tug at the sleeves of his hoodie, Lance quickly came to a realization. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”  
“Yeah.” Keith glanced back up to Lance, biting at his lip once more. He smiled after a moment, “But so are you. I only bumped into you because I was too busy staring at you to really watch where I was going.”

 

“That’s sweet,” Lance grinned, “you were falling for my pretty face.”  
“Well, I wouldn’t say _fall_ ,” the shorter boy teased, “but I did stumble. I’m just lucky you were there to catch me.”

 

Fuck this guy was smooth. Lance could feel his face heat up as Keith laughed softly. “So, um, where,” he paused a moment, causing the other boy to tilt his head to one side questioningly, and if that wasn’t the cutest thing in the world then Lance didn’t know what was, “I mean, it’s just…” Lance looked down, tugging the sleeve of his coat back enough to show his wrist, and the red mark, towards Keith. “Can I see yours?”

 

“Oh.” Keith blushed, though he smiled as he began to pull one of his own sleeves back enough to tug off one of the (ridiculous) fingerless gloves he’d been wearing to show a matching mark on his own wrist. He glanced back up to Lance, shyly peeking at him behind his bangs and Lance felt the urge to wrap this boy in his arms and kiss the daylights out of him as a punishment for being this damn cute. Instead, Lance reached for his hand, lightly brushing his fingers against the mark.

This was real. This was really happening. He couldn’t help the giddy grin that spread across his face. He probably looked goofy as he laughed, but went to thread his fingers in between Keith’s, squeezing his hand. He felt his heart begin to dance in his chest when Keith squeezed back.

 

He’d found his soulmate.  
“Want to go get some food?” Lance asked, looking into those pretty purple eyes. “I mean, I’m not getting paid until Friday, but I’ve got enough on me that we could probably get McDonalds or something.” And Keith snorted.  
“Romantic.” he teased, but was smiling just as widely as Lance was. “Got enough to get two twenty pieces and some fries?”  
“Plus a shake for me and something non-dairy for you.” Lance promised. And Keith stepped closer to the taller boy, proving Lance right when he raised up onto his toes and kissed his cheek briefly.

 

“Let’s go.”


End file.
